


It's The Way You Love Me

by Setari



Series: Fanboy Orochimaru [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Crush, Fangirls, M/M, Orochimaru is a Fangirl, Other, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-09-30 21:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10173080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setari/pseuds/Setari
Summary: Half the school is in love with Hatake Sakumo; Orochimaru included, much to his friends' incredulity.Sakumo just wants to know more about the adorably shy little androgyne stalking him.Orochimaru is a bit more than he expected.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this tumblr post.](http://blackkatmagic.tumblr.com/post/158006394805/re-the-anon-who-posited-the-sakumo-fanclub-kat) Essentially just a Sakumo-fangirl!Oro fic. I hope this covered just about everything in the post (and subsequent posts).
> 
> PS Forgive me if I mangled my tenses. I usually write in past tense, but I have a really bad habit of picking up the tense of whatever I read last, which happens to be, y'know, most of blackkat's stuff, which is mostly (entirely?) in present tense, so.

Tsunade hears a sigh, and looks up from her lunch with wary curiosity. Between her and Jiraiya, Orochimaru is no longer picking through the bento Tsunade forced on him this morning, because, really, school lunches are nutritionally deficient, and Orochimaru is skinny enough as it is. Instead, he’s looking out across the grass, at where a small group of upperclassmen are walking across the courtyard. Specifically, Tsunade knows, he’s looking at the tall, handsome one with the white ponytail and the easy grin.

“Really?!” Jiraiya asks, with poorly concealed exasperation.

Tsunade rolls her eyes at him, because it’s not as if this is a new thing. Or, well, it is relatively new, Tsunade only became aware of Orochimaru’s raging crush a couple of weeks ago, but that means he must have been stewing in it for a few weeks before that, because Orochimaru is less emotionally clumsy than Jiraiya, but that’s hardly saying much. Still, she has to allow that the wistful sighing thing is new, and a bit disturbing, because it’s Orochimaru.

“Shut up, Jiraiya.” Orochimaru mutters without any heat.

“Bastard.” Jiraiya huffs, with an equal lack of feeling.

The upperclassmen wander closer, and Tsunade can _see_ the moment it dawns on Orochimaru that their path is going to take them right across the little pathway next to the patch of grass the three of them have claimed as their usual lunch spot. His eyes go wide, the eye-liner he took to wearing when Tsunade shared the miraculous discovery that was make-up with him at fourteen making his eyes look even bigger than they really are, and his cheeks flush, and he instantly goes back to his bento. His focus is obviously not on the food, though, because his chopsticks are swirling through his rice distractedly, and not actually being used as the eating utensils they are.

The older kids are now close enough for Tsunade to catch snatches of their conversation. It sounds as if they’re talking about some kind of joint project they’ve been assigned, complaining, really. “As long as we’re organised about it, it’s not going to be hard.” The object of Orochimaru’s affections points out, in a bracing tone that manages to encourage, rather than mock. “Come on, guys, there’s five of us. If we work together, it’ll be a piece of cake. We just have to work to everyone’s strengths.” This sparks up a lively debate about which parts of their project each of them should be responsible for.

Orochimaru is peeking up through his hair now, and he reaches up to tuck the long dark strands behind one tomoe-adorned ear just as his crush glances over. Tsunade leans back a little to watch, biting her lip to keep back laughter, because it really is comic, the way the older boy does a small double-take, the way Orochimaru goes completely still at getting caught looking, the way the older boy smiles, utterly oblivious to Orochimaru’s clearly visible mounting panic, and then _waves_. It’s an easy, relaxed little motion, almost tentative, but Orochimaru clearly has no idea what to do with it.

He glances at Tsunade for help, so Tsunade rolls her eyes, _again_ , and reaches out, catching hold of Orochimaru’s wrist and forcing him to wave back. Orochimaru goes from pink-cheeked to white-faced in a heartbeat, and for a moment Tsunade thinks he actually _is_ going to remove her hand at the wrist for her trespass. Which would be a shame, because it would force her to retaliate, and break every bone in his body. But he doesn’t, he just slaps her hand away and sets about packing away his bento.

“Hey.” Tsunade looks up to find that Orochimaru’s crush has wandered over, one of his friends at his side, the others continuing on their way with friendly bickering.

“Hello.” Tsunade says, because she’s the only one of the three of them who has any manners at all.

An assessment that’s proven right a moment later when Jiraiya, rudely, asks “And who’re you?”

“Hatake Sakumo.” The boy responds, smiling as if the rudeness slides right off him. He opens his mouth to say more, but he stops dead when Orochimaru stands up, swinging his bag onto his shoulder. “Oh,” he says, eyes widening a little, and changes tack with a startled, “are you leaving?”

Orochimaru glances at him, then looks away quickly, as if he’s just looked into a too bright light. Tsunade is not going to laugh, or worse, _coo_ at him, because that probably _would_ lead to dismemberment, and anyway, this scene is far too precious to interrupt. “I- Yes. I’ve- Homework.” Orochimaru _stammers_. Actually, outright _stutters_. And then promptly flees, admittedly with great dignity and grace, but still.

Hatake is staring after him like a lost puppy.

“Oi, Orochi! Wait up!” Jiraiya yells, lurching to his feet, and grabs up his mess of things without bothering to try and put them into some semblance of order. He only pauses once, to shoot a vaguely wary assessing look at Hatake, before he bolts after Orochimaru. He catches up just before Orochimaru reaches the door to the school library and pounces on him, wrapping an arm around his neck and hauling him in close. Orochimaru squirms and smacks at Jiraiya’s head, but doesn’t _actually_ try to escape. Then they both vanish into the gloom of the doorway, and Tsunade turns her attention back to Hatake.

Said boy is rubbing a hand over his face while his friend claps him on the shoulder bracingly. He shoots a blinding grin at Tsunade. “Sorry to bother you.” He says with a surprisingly level of sincerity, before dragging Hatake away.

Tsunade watches them go, thinking carefully. It’s quite clear that Orochimaru is _utterly_ smitten with Hatake, despite being, apparently, unable to have so much as a conversation with him. Still, Orochimaru has a bad habit of liking the wrong sorts of people. Namely people who are intelligent, but also have an ability to sense and exploit emotional vulnerability like a particularly rabid hyena. She’s pretty sure that she can take Hatake’s parting expression – one of quiet disappointment – to mean he’s interested in Orochimaru, too, but that means nothing if he’s just going to wind up hurting Orochimaru later.

The hopeless romantic in her wants to lock them in a closet together and see what happens, but she squashes that fantasy with ruthless practicality. Instead of being impulsive – that’s Jiraiya’s area of expertise, anyway – she’s going to watch Hatake _very_ closely, and make sure he’s not going to trample all over her best friend before she lets him _anywhere near_ Orochimaru.

* * *

Hatake Sakumo, Jiraiya finds out, is in the school kendo club. Jiraiya has never understood why the girls seem to swoon over the kendo club, because it’s not like people these days _actually_ use swords any more. It’s just a bunch of boys smacking each other with wooden sticks. And whenever _Jiraiya_ used to do that, Tsunade would always box his ears and tell him to stop being such a boy.

Girls make no sense, is what he’s saying. Girls, and apparently Orochimaru, too. Because Jiraiya is walking with Orochimaru to the library – where Jiraiya has Young Writers Club, and Orochimaru’s going to sit and study like a loser – when his friend pauses outside the fire escape doors of the gym, which are propped open in an attempt to coax a breeze out of the summer air, to stare.

Jiraiya leans around his friend to see what has caught his attention, and sees… the kendo club. Nothing all that interesting, really. “It’s just some guys hitting each other with sticks.” Jiraiya says, because a brain-to-mouth filter is something he’s never bothered with.

Orochimaru rolls his eyes, in that excessively withering way he has. “It’s _skill_.” He corrects archly, and goes back to watching the kendo club. Well, Jiraiya realises a moment later, not the _whole_ kendo club. Just the one with white hair pulled back into a lopsided bun.

“Hatake again?” Jiraiya asks, exasperated. Orochimaru sniffs dismissively, but there’s a blush creeping up his cheeks that gives the game away. “I don’t get it. When _I_ went around hitting people with sticks, girls just beat up on me. When _Hatake_ does it…” Jiraiya grumbles, because Orochimaru is not the only one watching Hatake. There’s a small cluster of girls loitering by the doors that lead into the rest of the school, giggling.

“Sakumo is actually talented.” Orochimaru informs him archly.

Jiraiya glares at the boy in question. He’s in the middle of smacking his wooden stick into the other boy’s wooden stick. “If I joined the kendo club, do you think the girls would swoon over _me_?” He asks idly, as Hatake does something fancy with his wooden stick, and the girls – and Orochimaru – all make sounds of appreciation. His opponent’s wooden stick goes clattering to the floor, and Hatake taps _his_ wooden stick against the boy’s padded vest.

Orochimaru _ignores him_ , the bastard. His attention is entirely riveted on Hatake, who’s taking off his face guard. He’s smiling, bright and easy, and leans in to clap a hand to the other boy’s shoulder. He says something, and Jiraiya only catches a few words like ‘technique’ and ‘improve with practice’ so he assumes Hatake is giving advice.

Then he turns away, heading in their direction, although he clearly hasn’t noticed them loitering by the fire escape. Instead, he reaches back and lets down his hair, sticking the elastic tie between his teeth as he finger-combs it out of its messed-up state, and drags it back up into a high tail. He retrieves the elastic, and a few twists later, and his hair is up in another bun. Jiraiya hears a lot of melodramatic sighs and giggling from the gaggle of girls, and one very quiet hum of appreciation from Orochimaru.

“Is it the long hair?” Jiraiya wonders. “Should I grow my hair out?”

 _That_ gets him a side-ways scathing look from Orochimaru. “You, of all people, should know, Jiraiya, that ‘boys’ with long hair don’t _always_ get such positive reactions.” He remarks bitingly. Jiraiya winces, because okay, he deserves that one. Orochimaru doesn’t get shit for the way he looks anymore, but that isn’t because people stopped _wanting_ to give him shit about it. They just stopped _daring_.

Jiraiya doesn’t apologise, but he does change the subject, which is as good as. “It’s not even as nice a colour as mine. Mine’s _white_ , his is sort of… grey.” He points out scathingly.

“It’s silvery.” Orochimaru corrects, in this really weird, wistful sort of tone that is _seriously_ unnerving. Jiraiya side-eyes him, and catches him with an even more disturbing expression of longing on his face. Seriously. Jiraiya could _swear_ there were actual hearts in his eyes. And then Orochimaru’s eyes widen, and his cheeks go red, and he turns away so sharply his hair whips through the air.

“Hey there.” A familiar voice says, and Jiraiya looks over to see that, yes, Hatake has finally noticed them and walked over. His eyes flick between the two of them, but settle on Orochimaru. Who glances at him, nods jerkily, and doesn’t say a word. “Thinking about joining up?” Hatake asks, still looking squarely at Orochimaru, although he does jerk his head towards the inside of the gym to indicate what he’s talking about.

“Yes, actually.” Jiraiya says, impulsive. Orochimaru gives him a furious glare from behind his hair, which he’s using to shield most of his face from Hatake’s gaze. Which lingers on him a moment longer, as if it’s hard for him to tear his eyes away. But he does, eventually, though not before Jiraiya catches him sweeping a look down over Orochimaru’s black tresses with unmistakeable interest. Huh. Maybe it really is the long hair. Jiraiya’s going to grow his own out, just to see.

Then Hatake looks at Jiraiya, and to his surprise, he’s still smiling. Honest and welcoming. “We’re always happy to have new members.” He says sincerely, and a little self-deprecating. “We seem to shrink every year, so new blood is very exciting. Do you have any experience with kendo?”

“Nope.” Jiraiya declares easily. “But the bastard here does, don’t you, Orochi? He’s a big fan.”

Orochimaru looks like he might try to tear Jiraiya’s throat out with his teeth. Then he glances at Hatake, and the expression softens and twists into something that is caught between admiration and terror. There’s a small awkward pause, where the two of them just stare at each other and fumble for words like idiots. “Yeah?” Hatake finally asks, looking bashful. “Well, we’d love to have you, if you-”

“I don’t- practice.” Orochimaru interrupts, a little sharp, but still red-faced. Which is a bold-faced _lie_ , Jiraiya knows that Orochimaru’s mother kept live steel in the house and that Orochimaru knows how to use every single one of her blades. “I wouldn’t- be any good at-” Orochimaru went on, gesturing with a twitchy yet somehow still graceful little flick of his fingers at the gym to indicate what he meant.

 _That_ , Jiraiya finds, he can’t argue with. If this is how Orochimaru gets just _talking_ to Hatake, he’ll be _useless_ if he has to spend an hour a week around the other boy. Hatake’s eyes catch Orochimaru’s, and he smiles, small but sincere and encouraging, and Orochimaru goes so still Jiraiya thinks he’s stopped breathing. “You don’t have to be some sort of genius at it, you just have to love it. The rest will follow.” Hatake tells Orochimaru, and reaches out as if he’s going to clap his shoulder, or maybe grab his arm and tug him inside.

Orochimaru jerks backwards in alarm. Then he turns to Jiraiya, a rather wild, frightened look in his eyes. “I’m going ahead. I’ll see you in the library when you’re done here.” He says, and flees.

Hatake’s hand drops back to his side as Orochimaru vanishes around the corner of the building. “I don’t- Did I say something wrong?” He asks, bewildered.

Jiraiya glances at him, and wonders if he really didn’t realise how what he said might have sounded to Orochimaru. He _must_ have some idea that Orochimaru is interested in him. Orochimaru _never_ blushes like that usually. Isn’t that usually a pretty clear clue? Girls don’t blush like that unless they’re _interested_. At least, that’s what all the books seem to agree on. It’s not like Jiraiya has a lot of real-world experience with girls. _Yet_.

But no, Hatake just looks confused, and a bit disappointed. “Nah.” Jiraiya says, instead of trying to explain that Orochimaru has two settings, ‘uninterested’ and ‘fascinated to the point of devotion’, and that he’s only ever good with people when he’s actively trying to break them. That he clearly wants Hatake to think well of him, because Orochimaru doesn’t know how else to live except by measuring himself against the opinions of those few people he cares about, but knows that so few people ever think well of him once he opens his mouth. That Hatake was talking about loving kendo, but Orochimaru was thinking about loving _Hatake_ , and that ‘the rest’ is usually heartbreak, one way or another. “He’s just like that sometimes.”

“Alright.” Hatake sighs. He casts one last, wistful, intrigued look in the direction Orochimaru had gone, then shakes himself, and turns to Jiraiya with a smile. “Well, like I said, we’re always looking for new members, and anyone’s welcome. Anyone at all. The Monday meetings at lunchtime are usually, uh-” Hatake glances over his shoulder at the gaggle of girls at the door to the gym, who burst into giggles when they catch him looking. Some even wave. Hatake turns back to Jiraiya with a faint grimace. “- _quieter_ , so if your friend, uh, Orochi, was it?”

“Orochimaru.” Jiraiya corrects him quickly, because the idea of some stranger – some stranger with the power to hurt Orochimaru so spectacularly, to boot – using _Jiraiya’s_ nickname for him makes him want to gut the other boy, kendo prowess be damned.

“Orochimaru.” Hatake repeats, his voice going weirdly soft. Jiraiya might be imagining it, though, because his next words sound perfectly normal. “If he’s nervous, that might be a better time for him.”

“I’ll tell him.” Jiraiya promises, even though he knows that the _other_ fangirls are not Orochimaru’s problem. The idea that they _could_ be a problem to Orochimaru is actually a little hilarious, because it isn’t like he gives a damn what they think of him. Hatake beams at him, and Jiraiya almost feels a little bad for him, knowing that Orochimaru won’t be joining the kendo club any time soon.

Someone inside the gym yells for Hatake, and he glances over his shoulder, waves an acknowledgement, then turns back to Jiraiya. “Sorry, I’ve gotta- See you around.” He offers, with another one of his frequent smiles. Jiraiya waves him off, says something in agreement, and rushes off before he can be made any _later_ for his writing club by _Orochimaru’s_ emotional drama.

* * *

High school is an unpleasant experience for everyone, or so Orochimaru has been told, but he’s rather willing to bet that most people don’t have to put up with this sort of rubbish. This sort of rubbish being, specifically, some idiot deciding that Orochimaru would make a great new target for his pathetic attempts to bolster his own ego by trampling on others.

It happens every year. Someone works up just enough nerve to mock him for… well, a long list of things. Sometimes it’s his hair, or that he wears make-up and jewellery, sometimes it’s his intelligence, or the fact that he’s something of a loner, besides Jiraiya and Tsunade. It starts with snickering, just a little as he walks by a certain people in the halls. And that’s how he knows he’s going to have to destroy someone again.

But it’s always hard to pinpoint at first. Nothing overt, because at least _some_ of the idiots in this place remember the last time someone decided that just because he was small and pretty that made him a good target. He has to wait until he can figure out who’s leading this particular charge. Then he can start making their life a living hell.

The first overt attack comes in between classes, when Orochimaru is passing by one of the upper year’s classrooms as it empties. It’s not _just_ because it happens to be Sakumo’s class, it is actually on his way to his next lesson, but perhaps not the fastest way. Still, there are enough people going here and there in the halls that he doesn’t stand out. Except he’s clearly not anonymous enough among the crowd, because someone smashes into his shoulder, quite deliberately, and sends his bag and most of his books flying. This, of course, immediately causes an open space to form around him, because animal instinct drives the herd to abandon the one that has the predator’s attention in a cowardly attempt to save their own pathetic skins.

“Whoops, sorry.” The older boy says, without a shred of sincerity. “Didn’t see you there, girly.” Orochimaru rolls his eyes, and sets about picking up his books and tucking them back into his bag. He’s not going to correct the idiot, because that would be a waste of his time. Why bother polishing grime off a vase you’re just going to break later?

One of his friends snickers. “I don’t think that’s a girl, mate.”

“Why’s it all dressed up like one then?” The first one asks, and there’s more laughter. Orochimaru’s fingers tighten on the book he’s holding for a moment. There’s something to be said for the human instinct for causing pain, he thinks clinically, because that’s a safe way to approach it. It… exasperates him, when people insist on using female terms to refer to him, the small-mindedness of it confuses him, but it’s never bothered him. He doesn’t… _care_ about those sorts of things. He never has. But ‘it’ grates. ‘It’ marks him as a _thing_ , not a person, as if just because he can’t see those arbitrary lines the rest of humanity draws around itself, that he isn’t _human_.

“Maybe it thinks it’ll get to suck more cock this way.” Another one comments snidely, and there’s yet another round of mean laughter. Orochimaru turns slowly, his last few books abandoned, because it’s much more important that he remind these cretins just how low on the food chain they actually are, when...

“Or maybe-” Another voice says loudly, in a tone of obvious anger. Orochimaru’s heart skips, and then starts to _race_ , half in elation, because Sakumo is right there, and half in terror, because Sakumo is _right there_ , watching this. The group of idiots in front of him parts like the red sea, revealing Sakumo standing there, with his arms crossed and a steely glare on his face. “-the universe doesn’t revolve around your dicks, and the fact that you’re attracted to him has nothing to do with Orochimaru’s decision making process.”

Orochimaru’s heart skips another beat or several, because somehow, Sakumo has been paying enough attention to learn his name. It’s not like it would be hard, but in order to know it, he would have to have gone looking, had to have asked, because Tsunade and Jiraiya call him Orochi most of the time, or ‘bastard’ or ‘idiot’, because that’s what passes for endearments among the three of them. Which means Sakumo is paying enough attention to _want to know his name_. And that’s… breathtaking.

The idiot brigade stands there with their mouths open, none of them quite sure what to address first or how to back out of the corner Sakumo just drove them into. He grins at them, and this is not one of his kind smiles, it’s all teeth, all _threat_. A few of them, the ones with two braincells to rub together, take a couple of hasty steps backwards. “What are you- I’m not _attracted_ -!” One of them, the apparent ringleader of this circus of idiots, splutters.

“No?” Sakumo asks, looking unimpressed. “Prove it. Stop pulling his pigtails and leave him alone.” The ringleader goes scarlet with a very satisfying mixture of rage and embarrassment.

Orochimaru bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Perhaps he should wear his hair in pigtails tomorrow. Tsunade would get a kick out of that, and she’s been pestering him to let her braid his hair for a while now.

After a long pause, in which Sakumo stares the ringleader down, the idiot turns on his heel and storms off as if there’s any dignity to be salvaged in fleeing from the confrontation. Sakumo stares after them until they’ve turned a corner and vanished from sight, and then he turns to Orochimaru, and his whole face shifts from _predator_ to a gentle little smile that puts a dimple in one cheek and a warmth in his grey eyes.

Orochimaru whole body sings under the weight of that gaze. It’s too much, too much pressure not to disappoint Sakumo like he disappoints just about everyone else, and too much confidence, the feeling that with Sakumo looking at _him_ like that, he could do just about anything. He goes back to repacking his bag, which he was nearly finished with anyway.

“You alright?” Sakumo asks as Orochimaru refastens his bag and swings it back onto his shoulder.

That’s a question Orochimaru can answer. “Of course.” He says, with a minute roll of his eyes.

He then makes the mistake of looking at Sakumo again, of meeting that gaze, so he gets to see the broadening of his smile, the relief in Sakumo’s eyes. “Good. I’d hate to think a couple of idiots might manage to make someone as lovely as you feel self-conscious.”

…Lovely?

Orochimaru is sure his face is scarlet, and he _hates_ that, but he can’t stop it. He’s not usually so easily embarrassed, but around Sakumo, he just can’t help it. Every stray thought, every idle what-if, every tiny unbearable hope puts that oh so telling colour in his pale cheeks. He doesn’t know what to say, his tongue feels like it’s in knots, clumsy like only Sakumo has ever managed to make him. “That-” He begins, but reconsiders barely a syllable in, and searches for something less _obvious_ to say.

Sakumo blinks, then his smile dims a little bit. “If that’s alright to say?” He asks.

Orochimaru manages to unstick his tongue. “Compliments are always welcome.” He manages, and it even comes out sounding remotely _sensible_ , too, which is a relief. It also, _oh god_ , puts a blinding grin on Sakumo’s face. Orochimaru’s heart trips over itself, and there goes his ability to string words together. It’s massively frustrating, but also, maybe, a little bit of a relief, because if he doesn’t get the chance to think before he speaks, who knows what he might say to drive Sakumo away by accident.

“Excellent.” Sakumo says, like it really is excellent that he’s allowed to compliment Orochimaru.

There’s a pause, another awkward silence, but Orochimaru manages to pull words out of his brain and force them out of his mouth. “I was- just thinking that… perhaps I should wear my hair in pigtails tomorrow.” He remarks.

Sakumo blinks at him, and Orochimaru has a heartbeat to wonder if it isn’t funny to _normal_ people, before Sakumo laughs, eyes sparkling with something that looks awfully like delight. He reaches out and catches a strand of Orochimaru’s hair between his fingers. Scientifically, Orochimaru knows it’s impossible to feel that touch, his hair doesn’t have nerves in it to transmit sensation back to his brain. But his scalp is tingling and his whole body hums as if he can feel the way Sakumo’s thumb smooths over that single lock of hair. “As long as you don’t cut it off. That would be a crime.”

Well. If Orochimaru had _any_ plans to trim so much as an inch off, they’re soundly dead now. Not that he did, but the point still stands. Sakumo lets go of his hair abruptly, as if he’s just realised what he’s doing, and offers a sheepish, embarrassed sort of smile. He looks like he’s a heartbeat away from apologising, and Orochimaru _does not_ want to hear it. He searches for a way to stop him, a way out of a conversation that’s been going so well, but is still hanging right over the precipice of _mortifyingly awkward_.

“Late.” He manages to get out.

Sakumo blinks at him, then notices what Orochimaru has been increasingly aware of over the course of the conversation. The flood of students in the halls has slowed to a trickle, because lessons are resuming, and they’re still standing out in the hall like idiots. Orochimaru rather hates feeling like an idiot, but he minds it _less_ when the compensation is Sakumo looking at him with genuine _interest_.

“Oh, right!” Sakumo blurts out, eyes widening.

Orochimaru takes his cue to leave.

“See you tomorrow!” Sakumo calls after him, voice clearly carrying his grin. Orochimaru’s heart does a backflip, and he’s still smiling when he reaches his next class. He’s still smiling, in fact, when lunchtime rolls around and Tsunade and Jiraiya corner him.

“We heard what happened!” Tsunade declares immediately.

“Did Hatake really send the assholes running?” Jiraiya demands.

Orochimaru’s smile widens without any conscious input from his brain. Tsunade, the bitch, _giggles_ at him. “He called me lovely.” He states, even though it’s an _utterly_ banal thing to say, and he should be ashamed of the tripe coming out of his own mouth, but… but it _matters_.

The thing about Sakumo is that he’s… He _embodies_ that strange concept of ‘good’ that everyone else seems to understand so well. Orochimaru’s usually blind to it until it’s too late, until someone like Tsunade or Jiraiya smacks him over the back of the head and tells him he’s doing something wrong. But with Sakumo, he can see the beginnings of what they’re talking about when he looks at him. And to have Sakumo looking back? Looking back and _liking_ what he sees?

“Oh, gross.” Jiraiya complains, pulling a face.

Tsunade punches him in the arm, which sends him staggering with a yelp. “He did?” She asks brightly, smiling widely. When Orochimaru nods, she flings an arm around him and squeezes tightly. “That’s great! So, when’s the first date?”

Orochimaru blinks at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on, he saves you, compliments you, and you _didn’t_ ask him out?” She demands.

“I didn’t need _saving_ , thank you.” Orochimaru snaps, shaking out of her grasp. “And it’s not as if he professed his undying love for me.” And that thought is… not unpleasant. He can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks, which only embarrasses him further, prolonging the problem.

Jiraiya laughs at him. Orochimaru can only compare it uncharitably to Sakumo’s laugh, and think that it’s really no wonder Jiraiya is dateless. “I bet one of them cracks before tomorrow.” He says to Tsunade, sounding caught somewhere between hilarity and annoyance.

“I’ll take that bet.” is Tsunade’s predictable response. “Orochimaru’s far too stubborn for that.”

“Uh-huh.” Jiraiya drawls. “A week’s worth of homework says the bastard cracks before tomorrow.”

“Deal.”

* * *

It’s the last period of the day, and Sakumo _cannot pay attention_. It’s replaying like a loop in his mind, the way Orochimaru had smiled when he’d said ‘compliments are always welcome’ like it was a secret he was sharing with Sakumo. He can’t even remember when he’d first become aware of the other boy, just that he’d slowly made himself known in Sakumo’s periphery, but whenever he turned to catch another glimpse, he was gone. When Sakumo sought him out, he left.

It was frustrating, because Sakumo was… curious. More than curious. He was _interested_. But no one really seemed to know anything about him. He was a loner, with only two friends, both of whom were in much the same situation, and were also very tight-lipped about each other. Not that Sakumo had pressed them for answers, but the girl had given him a glare that threatened to set him on fire, and the boy had _snapped_ the answer to the one question Sakumo dared to ask about his friend.

The lesson ends, and Sakumo stays in his seat while everyone else scrambles for the door. He’s not in the right mindset to face that initial scrimmage at the door, as everyone attempts to be the first one out of school at the end of the day. He takes his time, letting himself dwell on that little flash of wicked humour he’d seen. That had been brilliant, the idea of turning those _asshole’s_ taunting back on them, and essentially _daring_ them to make another comment.

He wants to see more of that fire. And he wants to eviscerate anyone who tries to put it out. It’s not a friendly impulse, but he can’t help it. It’s just that Orochimaru is… quiet. Shy. He’d thought, at first, that maybe it was just _him_ that Orochimaru struggles to talk to, but his friend had confirmed that he’s just like that. And the idea that Orochimaru has to _endure_ taunting like the scene Sakumo witnessed makes every last one of his protective instincts sit up and start snarling.

Sighing at himself, Sakumo heads for the door, ambling down corridors that are mostly empty now, just a few last stragglers making their way out of the school. He turns a corner, passes a door that’s been left hanging ajar, and hears something that stops him dead. “-like Orochimaru is anything _special_!”

“Standing out in the hallway, flirting with _Hatake-senpai_ like he has the _right_!”

“Ami and Ren said they were going to make him stop.”

“Good. If anyone can, they can. Smug little bastard, I hope they make him _cry_.”

Sakumo gapes, hardly able to _believe_ what he’s hearing. He knows he’s fairly popular, but that sounds possessive and jealous and almost like a violation. It also sends concern spiking through him. Orochimaru had stood there and let people attack him for his hair and his make-up, he might very well stand there and let a bunch of petty, jealous girls tell him not to talk to Sakumo again.

Sakumo starts walking before he quite realises he already has a plan in mind. He’s not just going to sit by and worry, so he has to find Orochimaru and… and at least let him know what’s going on, and maybe, maybe stay with him, at least while he’s still on school grounds, just to make _sure…_

He steps out of the building into the courtyard, and scans the handful of people walking mainly towards the front gates. He doesn’t see Orochimaru anywhere, but he does see two familiar faces standing under one of the trees, bickering. He heads over without a moment’s hesitation, even though he’s gotten the impression that they don’t like him very much.

“Hatake.” The girl says with some surprise when he reaches them.

“If you’re looking for Orochimaru, he’s in the library. The giant nerd.” The boy says, smirking.

Sakumo nods. “I was. I just heard some of the girls in his year talking.” He grits his teeth at the memory. “It seems they’ve got some insane idea into their heads to try and make him stop talking to me or something. Which is ridiculous, because he’s barely willing to talk to me as it is.” He shook his head, because that _wasn’t_ the problem right now. “I’m worried about him.”

Orochimaru’s friends blink at him, then exchange looks that Sakumo just cannot decipher. “Orochi is the most contrary bastard I’ve ever met. If they tell him to leave you alone, he’ll probably be stuck to your side by morning.” The boy points out, then adds a ridiculous eyebrow wiggle that makes Sakumo think of things that make him blush.

“You haven’t met my fanclub.” Sakumo sighs. “They can be pretty vicious. I’ve tried to get them to stop, but they’re…”

“You… really don’t need to worry.” The girl says, laying a hand on his arm in an attempt to comfort. “I have yet to meet anyone more vicious than Orochimaru.”

Sakumo blinks at her. _Vicious_ is not the word he’d use to describe Orochimaru. Shy, certainly. Playful, maybe. Perhaps a little fragile. But vicious? That seems like an unfair assessment, and even more baffling, coming from one of Orochimaru’s closest friends. “Still, I’m going to make sure he’s alright.” He says, instead of trying to argue.

“Aww.” The girl coos, looking absolutely delighted. The boy pretends to gag.

Sakumo can feel his cheeks heating, but he tries to ignore it. “Are you coming?” He asks, because it’s the polite thing to do. The two of them share a look, then shrug and nod in unison. It’s a little eerie, but Sakumo is secretly glad for the back up as he turns towards the library. Not that he’s worried about what a bunch of girls might do to _him_ , but… Well, Orochimaru might want some emotional support if Sakumo doesn’t get to him in time, and it’s not like Sakumo is his friend, however much he _wants_ to be.

The library is quiet and empty, but Orochimaru’s friends head for the second story without bothering to check the aisles downstairs, so Sakumo follows them. They angle around to the back of the library, where there are private study nooks. As they approach, Sakumo finally catches the sound of voices.

“-gives you the _right_?!” A feminine voice hisses.

“Don’t roll your eyes at us, you little slut!” Another joins in.

“You think just because Hatake-senpai likes your freak hair-”

“I think it’s none of your business if he does or not.” That is Orochimaru, and he sounds more bored than upset, and Sakumo lets out a soft sigh of relief.

“We’re _making_ it our business! You stay away from Hatake-senpai, or-”

“Or you’ll what?” Sakumo has _never_ heard that tone of voice from Orochimaru before, but he kind of wants to hear it again. Low and silky, almost inviting except for the bite to the last syllable that rings with a threat. Sakumo rounds the corner just in time to see one of the two girls lean over the table Orochimaru is sat at and grab a handful of silky black hair.

“Or we’ll cut it all o-”

Sakumo lurches forward in the same moment that Orochimaru lashes out. One hand jabs into the throat of the girl holding him, while the other whacks a heavy book into the stomach of the second girl. While the first recoils, clutching her throat and gagging, Orochimaru surges to his feet and slams the second girl’s face into the table. There’s a crunch of cartilage, a high pitched wail of pain, and the girl staggers backwards, helped along by an almost idle shove from Orochimaru.

Standing there with his mouth open like an idiot, Sakumo watches as Orochimaru rounds on the first girl. She takes several alarmed steps backwards, but Orochimaru is faster, knocks her feet out from under her, and pins her to the floor in a move so graceful it looks like _dancing_. “You, my dear, are _very_ lucky we’re currently on school grounds. I’m not very interested in getting expelled, you see, and if I broke every bone in your hand, I don’t think I could explain that away as self-defence.”

The girl whimpers.

Sakumo kind of wants to whimper, too, but probably not for the same reason.

“No, I’ve no plans to get expelled. I’m not going to make it that easy for you to keep me away from Sakumo.” Orochimaru laughs softly. “I’m not even going to tell you to stay away from him, because I don’t need to. You can throw yourself at him as much as you like, he won’t look twice at a pathetic little worm like you. But know, that if you _hurt him_ , if you make his life one _inch_ harder than it needs to be, _I will find you_ , and I will _make you suffer_.”

“Um, Orochi? You might want to tone it down a little bit.” Orochimaru’s friend, the boy, says awkwardly.

Orochimaru’s head snaps up, his gaze meets Sakumo’s, and his face drains of what little colour was there in the first place. He immediately gets off the girl, who’s crying, Sakumo can see now, and he would feel bad for her, really, except he can still remember seeing her yanking Orochimaru about by his hair. Orochimaru is still staring at him, looking… wary, frightened.

“Hatake-senpai!” The girl with the bleeding nose calls, simpering with relief. “Help! He just _attacked_ us! We didn’t even _do_ anything!”

Sakumo doesn’t bother to answer her. His gaze is still caught on Orochimaru, and his brain is still occupied trying to string a coherent sentence together. “I told you you’d be good at kendo.” Is what comes out, which is ridiculous, and stupid, and Sakumo’s cheeks are _burning_ with embarrassment, because he must look like such an _idiot_ right now.

But Orochimaru, after blinking at him rapidly for a moment, starts to smile, tentative at first, then widening into a slightly lopsided smirk. “That wasn’t kendo.” He points out.

Sakumo swallows hard, and tries words again. “Whatever it was, it was _amazing_.”

Orochimaru’s cheeks turn a really fetching pink, which goes exceptionally well with his lilac eyeliner, and Sakumo’s heart goes belly-up and waves a little white flag. He’s lost. He knows he’s utterly lost to this adorable, dangerous person, and he doesn’t give a single damn. Orochimaru reaches up with the hand that just moments ago had been a lethal weapon, and delicately tucks his hair behind one ear. Sakumo’s fingers actually tingle with the intensity of his desire to do that himself. “I thought- I’ve never-” Orochimaru stammers.

Sakumo steps across the girl still lying on the floor where Orochimaru left her without a care, instinct driving him, and reaches up to run his fingers along the path that Orochimaru’s took, along the line of his hair from forehead to ear, where he ghosts his fingertips over the shell. “You thought?” He prompts. Orochimaru is staring at him with something that looks like awe on his face. He shakes his head minutely, but he’s smiling again, which is good enough, in Sakumo’s book. “Can I… buy you dinner sometime?”

Orochimaru opens his mouth.

“Hah! I told you! I win!” Orochimaru’s friend crows.

“Do not! You bet _Orochimaru_ would crack first!”

“I did not! I said _they_ would crack before tomorrow! I never specified!”

“You said ‘the bastard’!”

“That could have been either of them!”

“Oh, please, as if-”

“Jiraiya? Tsunade?” Orochimaru calls, not looking away from Sakumo. The frosty edge to his tone sends a shiver down Sakumo’s spine. “ _Fuck off_.”

Sakumo laughs. He can’t help it. He just can’t. It’s just so unexpected, and so amazing. Orochimaru is beautiful, and sweet, and _vicious_ , and it’s the best thing Sakumo’s ever seen. “You’re _perfect_.” He says, before he can think better of it.

Orochimaru’s cheeks go from fading pink to lovely scarlet. “Dinner.” He says, with a small nod that Sakumo really, really hopes is an agreement. It must be, because a moment later, he adds; “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” Sakumo agrees at once. He doesn’t care that he agreed to hang out with Dai. Dai will understand. The smile that lights up Orochimaru’s face is so innocently sweet, and Sakumo’s memory replays the moment where he’d coolly smashed someone’s face into a table. “Can I kiss you?” He blurts out before he’s thought it through.

“I will be very annoyed if you _don’t_.” Orochimaru says at once, and then blushes, like the words had escaped against his will, just like Sakumo’s. Still, he doesn’t retract them, so Sakumo leans down, slides his hand to Orochimaru’s chin to tilt his face up, and fits their lips together with care.

Orochimaru makes a tiny, adorable little noise, and then winds his fingers into Sakumo’s hair, thoroughly ruining his ponytail, and holds him in place so that he can plunder Sakumo’s mouth. Sakumo is not ashamed to admit that his brain short-circuits. By the time he resurfaces, gasping for air, the library is empty save for the two of them, and he has backed Orochimaru up against the end of one of the shelves. He’s vaguely aware there’s going to be trouble later, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when Orochimaru is looking at him from under his lashes, golden eyes gleaming, and leaning in like that, with obvious intent.

They don’t leave the library until closing time, and Orochimaru walks Sakumo home.


End file.
